


The Return

by The_White_Rabbit42



Series: NSFW Trickster Drabbles [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Feels, Grace Kink, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 23:36:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14883416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42





	The Return

You had never been able to deny him.  It had nothing to do with him being your soulmate, or the fact you still ache for his touch, even after he’s been gone for so many years.  All he had to do was give you that look, to gaze upon you with such tenderness that there was no doubt where his entire world could be found, and most barriers dissolved beneath the genuine and vulnerable emotions.  

 

Tonight, you need a touch more convincing, and if that’s why it actually resonates beneath  _ his  _ touch or if it’s simply because the only thing he’s likely had in his hands in the several years following his “death” is his dick, you’re not quite sure.  Whatever the reason, it effectively disarms the sharp edge to your fury, causing it to melt into other, heated sentiments. 

 

It no longer matters if he’s heard all your prayers, if he’s known about your grief, that there are still nights when you would call out to him in your sleep and wake up devastated when you found your bed empty.  He’s here, now, and what he feels for you is as strong as ever as he writes his apologies over and over again across your bare skin with his lips. 

 

He takes his time undressing you, revealing you inch by inch in a way that’s more reverent than teasing.  The pace must have been torturous for him. It was nearly killing you, but you needed it to be this way. He needed to give you more than just a quick, passionate fuck, no matter how mind blowing it’s guaranteed to be, after what he’s done.  You need time to still believe that he’s really there, that this isn’t some dream. 

 

Perhaps he does too. 

 

He worships you, and he still remembers every spot that makes you sigh and shudder with pleasure.  Despite this knowledge, he takes his time to remap your body, taking in all the scars you’d received over the years, amber dimming with each one he uncovered, even as it simultaneously grew brighter with desire.  Teeth and tongue fervently followed those whispered apologies, blazing their own trail with newfound promises as he lavishes your senses with attention. 

 

He makes sure you hear just how much you ensare him with every husky moan he gives in response to your body and sounds.  He varies how light he traces or how hard he bites, expertly creating a dissonance that only fans the flames burning through your veins.  That coil winds tighter and tighter inside you, and by the time he buries his head between your thighs, you’re so close to coming undone he only has to circle your clit a few times before your hips lift straight off the mattress with what what is possibly the most intense orgasm you have ever experienced.  

 

He doesn’t stop there.  He does it again with his fingers, nearly topping the first, and by the time he coaxes a third and just as heady one out of you with his grace, you’re all but spent.  The wild glint in gold tells you he’s just getting started, however, as he climbs over his body and finally sinks himself within you. Despite that look, he moves with the same tenderness he started with, though you can feel that energy spilling out of his skin and into yours.   

 

“I did it to protect you,” he rasps into your neck, his nose pressed beneath your ear, just the way he used to when savoring every piece of sensory input from you.  There’s no way to tell where his concentration is, and no way to fathom how it’s everywhere, from the way you smell, to your taste still lingering on his tongue, to the feel of your walls wrapped so snugly around him there’s no doubt that there’s been no one else since he disappeared.  

 

There is relief in this last one more than anything.  Not that he would have begrudged you had you taken other lovers.  He had pretended to be dead, after all. 

 

He tries not to think of such things, however, and instead follows your lead.  He waits for your cue to pick up his pace; your legs wrap around him, feet locking, as you rock your hips up to spur his thrusts on.   There’s an undercurrent of desperation in the way he snaps his hips, and though he’s extra attentive in the way his grace washes over your body, you feel it stutter every now and then as he loses concentration.  

 

It finally dawns on you what the problem is.  

 

“I forgive you,” you murmur, your fingers sliding through his hair as your other arm wraps tightly around him, pulling him down onto you. He sags into you with relief, his body pressing you firmly down into the mattress to the point you just barely have enough room to breathe.  Those long, languid strokes return, where he draws himself almost entirely out before sheathing himself to the hilt. He rolls his hips at just the right moment so he can hit that inner spot, and it isn’t long before your writhing beneath him again. 

 

“One more time, sugar,” he urges, though you have a feeling he’s looking for more than just another orgasm from you.  You’re not sure how you even have enough in you to do this again, but this time when he drags you over that peak, you reward him with his name.  It’s exactly what he’s been waiting for, and for the first time ever, you both ride out your orgasms together. 

 

He raises up slightly afterwards, your sweat slick skin breaking out in goosebumps from the loss of heat.  He gives you the sweetest kiss in the middle of your forehead, letting his rest against yours for a few moments before collapsing completely on top of you.  You lay there, completely content, with your arms and legs still wrapped around him, as if he might disappear again without warning. 

 

You know this time will be different, however.  You can’t remember him ever making love to you like this, and his actions say what he cannot.   _ You are everything to me.   _

 

“You too, Gabe,” you murmur,  feeling yourself drifting off into the type of sleep that’s been elusive since even before he disappeared.  “You too.” 


End file.
